


Best Laid Plans

by Butterfrogmantis



Category: Les Schtroumpfs | The Smurfs
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, REEEE, Seriously where are all the shippers, This ship is overdue for a fic tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22303357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfrogmantis/pseuds/Butterfrogmantis
Summary: Papa tasks the village artist and writer with producing a colourful storybook for the Smurflings as the upcoming "New Beginnings" celebrations draw near. Painter decides he wants the book to be very literal and visual, whilst Poet thinks the book should be full of metaphors and creating the images in one's own mind. Fed up with their bickering, Papa sends the two of them in Gutsy's place to retrieve the customary rainbow gem from the crystal empire, hoping that the journey will help them appreciate each other's views on the project. But like Poet always says, the best laid plans of Mice and Smurfs often go awry ...
Relationships: (Hinted) Emerald Empress / Spectra, Hefty Smurf / Smurfette, Painter Smurf / Poet Smurf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Best Laid Plans

“The festival of new beginnings” Papa Smurf began, stepping onto a small chanterelle “Is about celebrating fresh starts” 

The murmurings of Smurfs rolled around the small gathering. Papa held his hands up for silence, and then brought out a small roll of parchment from his back pocket. He cleared his throat with a small cough, and unravelled a small to-do list. 

“Yes, we still have a week until the festival, my little Smurfs, but there’s much work to be done”

He peered over the top of the parchment. 

“Farmer Smurf, you’re in charge of making sure the designated crops will be ready in time for Greedy’s soup”

“Eyup, will do Papa Smurf” The cultivator tipped his straw hat respectfully. 

“Smurfette, Vanity and Grouchy - you’re on bouquet duty” 

“Yes Papa Smurf!”

“Absolutely, Papa Smurf!”

“I HATE bouquet duty!”

Papa ignored this last statement and continued down his list.

“Handy and Sculptor, could you fix the stand for the rainbow crystal please?”

“Certainly, Papa Smurf”

“And this year” The elder paused for dramatic effect “Gutsy will be on duty to collect the crystal!”

The crowd broke into applause, and those closest to the Scottish Smurf gave him a congratulatory clap on the back. Rumours had been milling about for weeks about which one of the many villagers would be given this opportunity. 

The new beginnings festival was a fairly new ceremony, having only begun after a small group of Smurfs freed the crystal empire from the clutches of an evil ice goblin known as Crackle. In order to celebrate their liberty - and their new found alliance with the Smurfs – the Emerald Empress herself had declared a day of celebrations and new traditions. It was decided that a chosen gem worker would craft a special jewel for the Smurf’s to collect and in return the Smurfs would build a special stand. When the sunset and the last rays of light hit the crystal at just the right angle, it would cast a multitude of rainbows across almost the entire forest; this was to demonstrate the friendship between the two kingdoms. Being chosen to deliver the gift and collect the crystal was not a job for any reckless Smurf, and so the villagers felt as though a great honour had been bestowed upon Gutsy, and he was humbly accepting the challenge. 

As the crowd began to disperse and talk about their jobs and preparations, the leader cut through the swarm of blue till he grabbed the jacket of a certain French resident. 

“Oh, wait a moment, Painter! I have a special job for you”

“What eez it Papa Smurf?”

“Go and get Poet, then meet me at my house”

“Oui”

A few minutes later, the three of them were gathered in chairs surrounding a thick book that was laid on the coffee table. Papa stroked the cracked spine gently, as though it were a precious ornament encased in gold. Using a hand to support the weight of the pages, he proceeded to flick through delicately, pointing to illustrations and sentences in handwriting unfamiliar to the artist and poet. Each time he flicked to a new page, the old parchment would click enticingly, stiffened from almost half a millennium of wear and tear. 

The book itself seemed to consist of a story, not unlike the fairytales Papa used to read to them. As they observed the pages, they could still see faint paintings of a princess, a dragon, and a handsome prince with a golden sword. The story was simple enough; he was a shy and lowly peasant at the start, but through the power of self confidence worked his way through the rankings until he was able to take down the kingdom’s greatest threat and marry the princess. Painter and Poet exchanged a glance, not knowing why on earth they had been summoned, much less what this storybook had to do with it. 

“This book was drawn up by Smurfs from when I was a little Smurfling, but ... centuries have taken their toll on the parchment, and I fear the plot is a little outdated for our younger Smurflings. I’d like to ask you two to create a new one for the festival – it is about new beginnings after all” 

“You want us to create a storybook Papa Smurf?”

“A fairytale of sorts, yes. I think the Smurflings will rather enjoy something new – and precious.” Papa chuckled, sitting back in his chair “Everybody loves a bit of Don Smurfo now and again but I think something original will be just what the Smurfs and crystal people would like to hear for the celebration”

“And I will do zhe paintings?” Painter asked eagerly, tracing the outline of the ivy covered tower illustration “My my, zhis was certainly a work of great art”

“Well” Papa smiled softly “There’s another reason I called you here. That book was created by your grandparents – both of yours, in fact, although I did not know it at the time” He noticed their shocked expressions and looked down at the book “Oh yes, Dauber and Scribe were best friends in their day, when both of them had Smurflings of their own they wanted to share the experience, not just with them but with all of us! I imagine the task would have been passed first hand from them were it not for ...” Papa paused, his expression going blank for a few moments “Well, the descendent of Dauber” He pointed at Painter “And the descendant of Scribe” He pointed at Poet “Both live on. I’m sure it would warm their hearts to know that their two families would be able to carry on the tradition. I do believe Dauber’s son was keen to see it”

“Mon ... père?” 

“Y-yes. When your father got married he talked of almost nothing but. I think Scribe’s son preferred to work alone” Papa shook his head “No matter, I did not bring you here for a history lesson. I wanted to unite the artists and writers again; you both come from equally creative families, and I know you’ll do us all proud” 

“What should the story be about, Papa Smurf?” Poet inquired, his quill poised over his own slip of parchment.

“That’s up to you two to decide. As long as the Smurfs and crystal citizen’s will enjoy it”

“I’m sure zhey will, Papa Smurf. I am already thinking of all zhe paintings I could do”

“Just make sure they match Poet’s story” Papa reminded him “And Poet, make sure your story matches Painter’s illustrations. Well, that’s all – I look forwards to seeing what you come up with”

“Merci, Papa Smurf”

“We’ll do our best!” 

“Very well my little Smurfs”

For the next few days, Painter and Poet spent every morning and evening trying to work on the story. They decided it would be s fairytale, similar to the original creation. Painter envisioned a colourful book of wild forests, arid deserts and snowy mountain peaks for him to create and the smurflings and crystal people to see. Poet envisioned pages of swirling copperplate handwriting for them to read. Neither seemed to fit well on a single page, and Poet complained that Painter’s illustrations may ruin his metaphors, whilst Painter argued there was no need for fancy descriptions of what they could already see. 

In fact, they’d been arguing over the dinner table about it – and not quietly either. The entire cafeteria had dined to the sounds of quill on parchment as Poet furiously scribbled down idea after idea over his plate of smurfberry pie. Each time the quill noise would stop, they’d be a second or two of silence before an inevitable; 

“Mon dieu, non!” 

Followed by yet more scribbling. 

“It’s so nice when we can all sit down and talk peacefully” Passive-Aggressive Smurf whispered from somewhere in the crowd. Painter and Poet stopped their bickering, for a moment, to glare at him. Then it was straight back to the heated muttering. For once, every Smurf was on P-A’s side.   
At the end of the meal whilst the Smurfs were cleaning up, Papa pulled the two aside, looking weary.

“Whatever is wrong my little Smurfs? I thought I could trust you with this”

The two began to talk over each other until Papa held up a hand for silence. He pointed at Poet. 

“Well Papa Smurf, I thought the book would be a lot better with some sort of metaphor, so the smurflings could really stretch their imaginations!”

“But ‘ow can I create my masterpieces, if all zhe pictures are in zhere minds, Papa Smurf? I am zhe illustrator, non? Zhe book should be full of colourful pictures zhat capture zhe eye and tell zhe story through zhe painting!”

“But then why would I need to write anything if they see absolutely every detail?”

“Zhe picture is worth zhe thousand words”

“It’s a BOOK - you might want to read one sometime”

“And you might want to look at zhe bigger picture!”

“QUIET!” Papa roared, his temper finally boiling over. He calmed down almost instantly, noticing the shock on their faces. Painter and Poet exchanged a nervous glance, for once thinking the same thing. Papa thought for a moment, wondering how in the smurfdom he would be able to make them see each other’s point of view. He paced up and down the side of the cafeteria hall a few times, brows furrowed with concentration. Painter and Poet had argued before, he knew that was a risk when he set them to work together. Somehow they just didn’t see that art and writing were a perfect marriage of creativity. That was how Dauber and Scribe had seen it, that’s why they’d created the original book, to show the unity of two artistic friends. Unity; of course! Papa snapped his fingers. 

“Wait here a moment you two” He said sternly, before walking through the large double doors and out of sight, leaving the two creators alone for a moment. 

An odd atmosphere hung in the air. It wasn’t exactly hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. Both were slightly wary about what Papa had in mind for them. They wanted to get on with the project of course, but were both resistant to the others point of view. Painter and Poet were friends, and had been since they were smurflings, but there was an unspoken platonic rivalry too. In fact, many of the Smurfs would call it romant-

“You two, I have some good news!”

“What is it Papa Smurf?”

The leader walked back into the room, a familiar Scottish Smurf following behind.

“Gutsy has agreed to give his role this ceremony to you”

“T-to us?”

“Why yes, if you two can make the journey and retrieve the gem together, perhaps you can learn to get along”

Yet another exchanged glance.

“Unless you have any ... objections?” Papa folded his arms, one eyebrow raised as if to dare them to question his decision.

“N-no, none at all” Painter and Poet stammered in unison, looking at the floor at their chief’s feet. 

“Good, tomorrow morning you two can collect the rainbow gem. I expect you to be back promptly by 8 for sunset”

“But what about our book, Papa Smurf?”

“You two need to learn to work with each other before you can work together” 

The two muttered an acceptance under their breath. 

At 7am sharp the next morning, Painter was roused from his sleep by a series of sharp bird whistles from Tracker. 

“Quoi?” Painter groaned, rubbing his eyes. 

“Rise and shine sleepy Smurf, Papa told me to come and fetch you for your big day!”

Painter sank back onto his pillows, grumbling something about certain British Smurfs and their early morning enthusiasm. 

Poet, who has been dreaming about a particularly large macaroon for whatever reason, was jolted from his sleep by the screech screeching of Harmony’s horn.

“Wakey wakey! Painter sent me here as your alarm!”

“You certainly alarmed me” Poet yawned, trying to remember what it was that he had to do that day. “I’ll be there in five”

A breakfast of Smurfberry muffins later, the two friends were ready and packed to carry on their journey. Greedy had supplied each of them with a backpack of lunch, and Tracker had thrown some of his own essentials into the pockets as well, including a compass and map. 

The air was genial that day, and fresh drops of dew hung off the leaves of the overhanging trees that towered above the two Smurfs like skyscrapers. A silky spider web that was strung between two flowers shimmered in the sunlight; it’s thousands of tiny droplets showing thousands of tiny, distorted reflections. Wild crocus sprouted from the undergrowth, dashes of purple amongst dark brown bedding. A yellow butterfly fluttered elegantly between the stems of blooming flora, stopping at every other flower to sample the nectar inside. A silver stream gurgled lazily by the forest floor, cascading over tiny pebbles and sticks as it made its way towards the river Smurf.   
The two friends stopped for a while besides the river, sitting on the root of a large oak tree as they tucked in to Greedy’s packed lunch. A songbird chirruped somewhere above them and a few moments later another joined it on the same branch. The Smurfs watched for a while as the birds preened and sang sweet songs to each other. 

“Zhey sure look happy, non?” 

“Ah yes, spring fever. Reminds me of a poem I wrote not long ago”

“Ah oui? What about?”

Poet’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he fiddled nervously with the tip of his lilac feather that was pinned to his cap.

“O-oh, um. Ahem; an ode to sprrring;” He coughed, closing his eyes slightly as he entered his ‘poetry mode’. 

“When the time for sprriiing has come along,   
Each creature Smurfs a merry song,  
With happy smiles they start to dance,  
For tis the season of rrromance.   
And as each sprrring time passes by,  
With fluffy clouds, way up high,  
They say there’s plenty fish in the sea  
I wonder then; who’s that fish for me?” 

Painter listened, fascinated by the way his friend’s voice trilled when he was inspired. 

“You are a great writer, monsieur Poet” 

“Heh, I just write what I feel. Same when you do those amazing masterpieces”

“And you are feeling; ‘ow you say? Lonely?”

Poet fiddled with his feather again.

“Well, it’s easier to write an ode than it is to talk”

“You could talk to zhe therapist Smurf”

“I let my poetry do the therapy” He gave a soft smile “Besides, there’s a lot to be said for the romantics. Though I feel that Smurfette has her heart in other places”

“Ah oui, she seems keen on monsieur Hefty, non?” Painter chuckled, thinking about how the two of them often shared sly smiles and took walks together by the ford.

Smurfette, at least at the start, had been the object of almost every Smurf’s infatuation. She was new, beautiful and a lot kinder than most of the Smurfs had been towards each other. The fact she was female was not as important as the feminine nature – that was almost wholly unique to Smurf kind, so it was sought after. However it soon became apparent that she could not possibly hope to engage romantically with every Smurf in the village, nor did she want to. Other Smurfs also came to realise that whilst they might adore her, they were not necessarily totally compatible, and that a friendship with her was just as smurfy whilst they pursued other Smurfs that brought out the best in them. 

“Ah, but who can blame her? He eez an attractive Smurf”

“Yes, and a kind one too” Poet sighed “But even so, this writer must find his next muse if he is to compose new odes and sonnets”

“I am sure any Smurf would be delighted with your writing”

Poet blushed, and a few moments silence passed between them; but it was not uncomfortable as much as an odd mutual closeness. Painter coughed the silence away.

“We, uh, should get going, mon ami”

“Oh, y-yes! We have much ground to cover!” Poet giggled and started to gather his backpack, all while trying not to think about how the mid morning sky perfectly matched his French friend’s complexion. 

A half hour later, the two friends arrived at the doors of the gleaming crystal palace. They stood for a while to admire the gemstone architecture, with its towering turrets carved from rubies and sapphires. The mid morning sun shone through them at just the right angle, which formed little refraction rainbows around the castle exterior. Painter stood back to admire the sight, trying to save the view to memory so that he could paint it once he got back to the village. Poet knocked on the large double doors, listening intently for sounds of movement from within the castle. 

Barely a minute later, they swung open, almost knocking the little writer off his feet. Painter caught him as he stumbled backwards, and the two were met by a fuzzy animated bear with a star shaped nose.

“Oh! You two must be the Smurfs for the rainbow gem? My name’s Patchwork” He grinned, eagerly shaking Poet’s hand in such a way that the much smaller creature was practically lifted off his feet. 

“Right this way little friends, the Emerald Empress has a feast for you”

“For us?” Painter inquired “But we are just here to collect zhe gem!”

“Oh yes, but the Empress is very keen on hospitality, it’s only a small one!”

Painter and Poet’s eyes met in a way that suggested both had doubts about the juxtaposition of a “small feast”. Even so, as they were guided through the palace, they couldn’t help but look around in awe. If they had thought the exterior was stunning, it paled in comparison to the interior design. Each room of the palace had a coordinated colour scheme, with lush carpets of the finest fabric, and artwork and sculptors that made Painter feel somewhat intimidated. The grand spiralling staircase in the middle of the castle had a railing of pure gems, encased along it’s handlebars with smaller, equally beautiful quartz crystals. At the foot were two identical statues, carved from emerald, of two proud gryphons, a symbol of power and wealth, with ruby eyes that seemed almost real. Poet felt a shiver of inspiration run down his spine, there was simply so much to write about! He could see it now – ballad of the crystal kingdom! Painter was feeling something similar; his finger’s practically itching to replicate the fine gem work. 

As they rounded the upper level of the grand staircase, the French Smurf was taken aback to spot a familiar rainbow pattern peeking from behind one of the doors. Only one creature he knew had such an array-

“Mademoiselle Spectra!” 

The colour sprite seemed to recognise the voice, because her face soon followed her multicoloured locks.

“Painter, darling!” She beamed, coming forwards to greet them “I didn’t know you would be attending!”

“Nor did I, mon ami! Eet was very last minute”

“But we’re happy to be here!” Poet smiled, offering his hand politely “I’m Poet Smurf”

“And what a dear little fellow you are!” Spectra giggled, making the Smurf blush. “Well there’s no time to lose, Aileana is waiting for us to make an appearance”

“Aileana?” Painter asked, bemused. 

“Oh yes, the Emerald Empress” Spectra’s cheeks turned two shades pinker. 

“You are acquainted, non?” Painter chuckled “Eet eez a fine thing”

“You could say that” 

“Spectra helped the Emerald Empress when the kingdom was in peril” Patchwork explained as the group of them walked towards another set of double doors at the end of the corridor “She’s a hero to the kingdom, just like you Smurfs!”

“Oh, it was nothing really” Spectra waved her hand modestly “I simply helped catch this firey imp by temporarily draining the kingdom of all but red; really, any colour sprite could have done it”

“Yes but it was you that did! So that still makes you the hero” Patchwork pointed out, and the two Smurfs agreed. “In fact, the Empress has invited her to stay!”

“And will you, mademoiselle Spectra?”

“It’s ... possible” She smiled “There’s so many colours to paint here, and the Empress herself is glad company”

Poet elbowed his friend gently in the ribs and gave a sly wink. 

The Emerald Empress was waiting at the head of the dining table as the group entered, and Painter and Poet were relieved to see that the ‘feast’ was more like a small, informal high tea. Painter and Poet grabbed two seats next to each other whilst Patchwork and Spectra sat opposite. Aileana exchanged a few pleasantries with all of them, and then the group began to tuck into the platters of sandwiches and cheeses. For a while, there was no noise but the occasional clang of cutlery or the appreciative “mmm” from Patchwork bear. 

“Très bon!” Painter licked a few remaining crumbs from the corner of his mouth “This food eez a smurfy a masterpizza as I ‘ave ever smurfed!”

“Hear, hear!” Poet chimed in, raising his glass. 

“Our head chef will be most delighted to hear that!” The emerald empress beamed, before turning her attention to a large, ornate clock on the wall. The little hand pointed almost at the 3, whist the longer piece of metal was slowly making its way towards the 12. 

“It’s almost time for the gem carver to arrive” She picked up a small golden bell and rang it twice. A group of crystal people appeared from a side door and began cleaning up the place settings. 

“Please give our smurfy compliments to zhe chef!” Painter exclaimed, and one of the crystal people beamed, and bowed low. 

“Painter, this is Gus, our head chef” 

“Smurfy to meet you” 

“Sm- nice to meet you too” The rotund gem person shook the hands of everyone at the table as the rest of them started to take the plates and cutlery back to the kitchens. They all glanced at the clock on the wall, which now read 5 seconds to three. 4... 3... 2... 1. 

At 3 O’clock exactly, there was a soft knocking on the large double doors that the Smurfs had entered through. The Empress announced that they could enter, and a tall crystal person of topaz blue entered the dining hall, pushing a cart in front of him. A bell shaped object sat atop the cart, covered by a cloth sheet. The topaz person bowed low and gracefully to them all, then rose again to his full height (which was at least 2 heads taller than any of the others in the room.) 

“Señors y Señoritas – I present you with my most brilliant stroke of genius yet” He grabbed the tip of the cloth and pulled it off with the elegance of a matador. Underneath was a bell shaped dome encasing the most beautiful gem Painter and Poet had ever seen. It was carved in the shape of a heart, and at first glance appeared to be translucent, but if you moved your head from side to side slightly, you could see that it refracted the surrounding light in the same way the turrets had done, so that little rainbows followed it no matter where you looked. 

“I was inspired by the crystal palace herself!” The sculptor continued “And I present our guests with this most bonito work of art”

Spectra clapped appreciatively, and the others joined her as the blue cheeks of the lapidary turned pinkish. 

“Eet eez a real masterpizza! Zhe Smurfs will love it!”

“I do hope so” He smiled. “I look forwards to seeing the stand my rainbow gem will be placed on”

“In that case, we better get smurfing back to the village” Poet piped up “In case Handy and Sculptor need to make adjustments”

“Ah oui – thank you for your hospitality!” He turned, addressing the Empress. “And I hope we will see you all at zhe ceremony”

“It’ll be the smurfiest ceremony ever!” Poet promised, carefully taking the gem from its stand. They bowed and waved to their friends again, then headed to the top of the river. 

“Say, Poet – wait. Look at zhat boat; we should take zhat back down zhe river Smurf”

Poet saw a narrow canoe lying in the shallow waters. 

“I’m not sure Painter ...”

“Why? We can return it later, and eet would be zhe fastest way home”

“Well ... alright” Poet hesitantly grabbed the mooring rope and cast it from the pier. 

“Wait! Eet eez escaping!” 

The flow of the river had been stronger than they first anticipated, and the canoe was already beginning to float downstream. Instinctively, Poet lurched forwards for the rope, but fell off the pier into the cold water. A few moments later, he surfaced, coughing and spluttering. 

“Mal de mer! Do not worry Poet, I am coming-”

A few seconds later, there was a second splash as the French artist jumped besides his friend.

“Painter, how is this helping exactly?!”

“Eet eez deeper zhan it looks ...” 

The two noticed the pier was very much high above them, and the surrounding ground was too steep for them to successfully climb out of in their position. They needed leverage, or a second water craft. 

“Wait, grab onto that log!” 

The two turned to see a medium sized log stuck in the cattails. They nodded at each other before paddling over and pulling it from the weeds. Poet jumped on first, then helped Painter clamber behind him. 

“The gem’s still safe, right?”

“I ‘ave it here ... but I forgot zhe backpacks”

Poet face palmed, but there was no point in arguing as the log was now caught up in the current, and travelling quickly downstream. 

“Uh, I do mean to alarm you, but zhere seems to be a few ... drops?”

Poet gulped, realising what his friend meant. 

“I think this is the top of a – woAH”

The log suddenly sped up as the current forced it over the first tiny incline. Painter was propelled forwards so that his nose hit the back of Poet’s head. Both of them grumbled, but it was only the start of the aquatic rollercoaster, as the log was now veering wildly out of control over larger and larger inclines. Poet was hanging on for dear life, whilst Painter did his best to keep a hold of the gem, his seasickness starting to rise up again. 

“Poet! Zhere is a large rock in front of us!”

“I can see that, Painter! But I can’t steer us away!”

“Oh Crêpes Suzette-” 

The front half of the log hit the rock straight on, splintering it almost directly in half. The force of the collision knocked the two Smurf’s from the side ... onto the shallow banks. 

“Dry land!” Painter kissed the dirt, and then spat as it hadn’t tasted so nice. He looked down, and gasped. 

“Poet!”

“What?!”

“Zhe crystal!”

“Oh Smurf-”

The rainbow gem had a large chip in one corner where a piece of the gem had broken away. They both stared at it, similar feelings of anxiety coursing through them. Then Poet frowned. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t jumped into the water!”

“Moi?! You should not ‘ave let go of zhe boat!”

“You shouldn’t have suggested the boat in the first place! We walked there, we could have walked back! It’s your fault!” 

“Why you-”

There was a flurry of arms and legs as Painter suddenly leapt at the writer. The two tussled on the bank as they continued to argue about who’s fault it was, until the both of them were startled by a sudden trilling. They stopped to look up at a songbird like the one from earlier. It watched the odd pair for a couple of seconds, before whistling a few more notes and taking to the skies. The break in pace had been enough for them to both calm down, and Painter got up off of his friend, who’d been pinned to the dirt. 

“Je suis désolé ... Eet was my fault”

“No no, it was mine” Poet rubbed his arm, looking guiltily at the broken gem. 

They looked up at each other.

“OUR fault” 

Painter smiled and offered a hand to help Poet up. He accepted it, but stumbled forwards so that he tripped into Painter’s chest. The two blushed, and laughed as Poet pulled away, rubbing his arm.

“Zhe question is, what will we do?” 

“Hm” Poet picked up the gem “I’m not sure Handy could fix that ... certainly not like the original”

“Eet eez a shame ... zhe gem is supposed to represent zhe union, but ‘ere we ‘ave broken zhat”

Poet mused for a while, studying the chip. Then he snapped his fingers.

“Painter! That’s it! I know exactly what we’ll do. But we must hurry – on foot, preferably.”

“Ah, oui?” Painter asked, running to catch up.

“I’ll explain on the way – oh, and we might even have something to read at the festival!”

“But Poet, zhere is no time to write zhe book! Zhe festival will be at sunset!” 

“Well I don’t know about you” Poet smiled “But I always preferred a good poem anyway” 

Later that day, as early evening rolled around, a crowd of Smurfs and crystal empire citizens were gathered on the high point of the river Smurf, eating picnics and sharing pleasantries as the younger crystal children played with the smurflings. Papa and Aileana sat at the largest blanket, with Spectra leaning on the Empress’ shoulder. Once most people were finished eating, Painter and Poet gathered by the covered gem stand, and Poet coughed a few times to get everyone’s attention. 

“Ahem – my fellow Smurfs, and friends of the crystal empire – we are gathered to celebrate this festival of new beginnings”

“As every Smurf knows, zhe festival is about celebrating zhose moments in life where you discover something new, or turn over a new leaf”

“It’s also about accepting changes, or having to realise on one’s own terms that sometimes even something old can be given a fresh start. I myself was wrong – I thought I knew what was best for this ceremony, but it took a special Smurf to show me that sometimes great ideas take teamwork”

“And zhat is what zhe festival is all about! Which is why-”

Painter and Poet grabbed one end of the cloth each, and pulled it off with a flourish. Standing in the light of the fading sun, the ornate stand held the beautiful rainbow gem, which did indeed send rainbow refractions scattering throughout the forest. In the corner that had chipped, there were two little model songbirds in a nest, created by Painter. The freckle faced Smurf pulled a roll of parchment from his pocket, and began to read.

“My fellow frrriend’s and fellow smurfs,   
The time has come at last,   
To celebrate this festival  
Of which the sun shall cast  
A bright and beaming rrrainbow  
All across the land,  
I ask you all, my humble friends  
To join us, hand in hand.   
I was set to a task  
Of which I wasted time  
It took a special French Smurf here,  
To help me write this rrrhyme.   
Though at times it felt as though  
We’d reach the end of our tether  
We know now that art and rhyme  
Are best when they’re together”

The crowds of picnickers clapped uproariously, and the Smurfs amongst them started to sing their famous la-la song.

“Eet eez a true masterpizza!” Painter grinned, whispering to his companion over the crowds.

“It wouldn’t have been the same without your help”

“Eet was your idea, Poet!”

“Yes but you pulled it off”

They paused for a moment, as though they might start arguing again ... and then burst out laughing, clutching each other in a tight hug. Poet’s tail started to wag happily, and he could hear Painter’s heart beat softly under his crimson jacket. No more arguments, no more fighting or disagreements. It was the festival of new beginnings indeed. There were clouds in the sky, and Poet secretly wondered if he’d found his fish. In a river of all places, which made him giggle. 

From the crowds, Papa smiled as he watched the scene. It was true what they said then; art and poetry was indeed a perfect match.


End file.
